


Unchained

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dancing, Exhibitionism, F/F, Oola Lives, Public Sex, Sex as distraction, Tentacles, Vaginal Fingering, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-21 04:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10678125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Leia finds herself in the company of Jabba's other slave girl, and she has a plan.





	Unchained

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FreshBrains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/gifts).



> CNTW because there's a fine line in the consent possible in this situation and I don't intend to debate which side of that line this falls on.

Leia keeps her hands at her sides. Raising them to her neck will show how much the metal collar bothers her, rubbing against the sensitive skin of her throat. Raising them to cover her body will show how much the rest of this outfit bothers her. Jabba and his goons want to shame her. Leia won't allow them. They can parade her around in skimpy gaudiness, coerce her to dance for their enticement, even brush up against her bare skin with a lecherous smile knowing the power they hold over her life. Leia is above them. She is above this. The clothes are chilly here in the shadows of Jabba's palace, that's all. Her neck is sore but unbowed.

Her eyes find their way to the girl attached to the shared length of chain. Her fellow prisoner can't say the same. She's got a careful smile, trained by Jabba's abuse. She's learned to tilt her head just so, to show off an expanse of green thigh, and not cringe as Jabba strokes her arm. She is so young, and already so lost. Leia looks at her, and she sees her own future if she doesn't get out of this place: broken and dying in pieces.

There's a plan. Leia has faith in the plan. The plan will get her out of here, get Han out, get all their friends out.

She catches Oola's eye, and for one moment, Leia sees a spark, quickly hidden before Jabba leans in for a disgusting lick against her lekku. Leia revises her estimation. Not broken. Not dying. Not yet. As Jabba tugs on Leia's chain, grumbling at her in Huttese, Leia vows to herself that Oola is coming with them when they leave this horrible place.

Their host's species takes his pleasure in fashions very different from those of humans or Twi'leks. He'll paw at his toys, touch them to make their flesh crawl, and he will delight in the discomfort. Now he's ordering up music from the band, and he bids his two slaves to entertain him. Leia doesn't speak his language, but C-3PO is right there to fill in the gaps as Jabba forces Leia out into the dusty light of the dance floor before his dais.

She took dance classes as a girl, learning dainty steps and elegant movements befitting a future queen. The motions come back, accompanied with memories that are growing sweeter and less painful each time she revisits them. Beside her, Oola's eyes are closed, giving herself to the sway of the music, pretending she's far away on another world. Freedom takes many forms.

Leia has never been one for shutting her eyes to unpleasantry. The comparatively bright lights help. The onlookers are shadows. She doesn't know if the Fett is watching her with growing desire. She doesn't know if Lando is turning his gaze away to offer her some paltry dignity as he waits for the time to strike. She can't see them. She can see Jabba, and the golden droid forced as closely to his side as she's been. She can see Oola, body alight with the pleasure of her own dance.

Jabba rumbles something. C-3PO, even more distraught than usual, performs the droid equivalent of clearing his electronic throat nervously. Jabba slaps him. "Princess Leia, the mighty Jabba requests that," another slap, " _demands_ that you kiss his dancer." The golden face is impassive. Leia wonders if his chips will burn out if Jabba gives him a command he doesn't want to say.

Oola fixes Leia with a worried, sad expression, before hiding her emotions under the same come-hither smile she's developed to keep her unhurt. Leia gives her a reassuring glance, mentally confirming her own decision to kill Jabba with her bare hands when this is done.

From far away, she feels the silver thread of Luke's presence. He's close. The plan is unfolding. They just need time. She drops her voice low enough only for Oola to hear. "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay. Can you trust me?"

For a moment, Leia's sure she doesn't understand. Since Leia's arrival, she's spoken a few words in Twi'leki, none in Basic.

Oola nods, once, and the spark flashes again in her eyes before she turns to Jabba, letting him watch as she wraps her thin arms around Leia's neck, bringing her in for a soft kiss. Leia listens to the whistles and mutters from the shadows. All eyes are on them.

She parts her lips under Oola's mouth, earning a tiny gasp. Oola doesn't stop kissing her, but her gaze is wary again.

Leia pulls away, dropping soft kisses against her jaw and up her neck as she whispers the bones of her own plan. "We need to distract them. If they are watching us, they aren't seeing my friends." The last words are only a breath at Oola's ear, sending a shiver through her. Oola tuns her face to meet Leia's mouth again, the second kiss far more passionate than the first. Leia gasps as they break, her sharp plan gone hazy under the unexpected desire.

So quietly she may be speaking telepathically, Oola says in accented Basic, "They watch me. They never see me."

At the dais, C-3PO is wilting under Jabba's commands. Luke set his orders carefully to ensure the droid won't give them away. Conflicting loyalty programs may short-circuit his brain. At last, whatever subroutine he's been fighting reroutes and allows him to speak. He translates Jabba's next command. It doesn't matter. Leia has already decided on her course of action, guided by the hope she reads on Oola's face.

This has to look good. They have to get all eyes on them.

In another time, in a better place, were they friends and bedmates, Leia would pull this gorgeous woman onto soft sheets and spend a whole afternoon charting her skin with fingers and tongue, feeding her rare fruits and tasting the succulent juice dribbling down her skin. If they get out of here alive, if Oola is back to the person she was before her confinement, Leia will find such an afternoon and she will invite Oola to join her.

In the now, she raises her hands to the other woman's face, tickling her way up her chin as she presses in more kisses. Leia keeps a solid gaze with her, checking for fear or pain, before stroking the backs of her fingers down the lengths of her long lekku, then drawing her fingertips up them again. She doesn't read any resistance. She is rewarded with a pleased sigh, light as the desert wind, as private as a moon shadow in a lush, green dell far from this dusty hideout.

Leia presses her palms against Oola's shoulders, feels the muscle under her hands as she rubs her way down to the wrists. She has dancer's legs and dancer's arms, a whip-taut and graceful strength others mistake as delicate. Good. When it comes time to break out, she's already anticipated Oola's ability to kick a man's spleen out circa his ear but she's pleased to note punching is also on the table. They'll need every advantage they can get.

Oola's hands wander to Leia's neck, soothing the skin chafing at her collar, sliding warm fingers under the metal band to rest against the pulse of her throat. Comfort offered and power hidden, Leia thinks. From here, she could easily crush Leia's windpipe before the guards realized what was happening. She won't.

Leia pulls her closer for another kiss, reaching her leg to draw Oola in closer against her, rubbing their bodies together. In the shadows outside the pool of light, she can hear the uncomfortable mutters. They have the attention of the crowd. Leia bends to press her mouth at the swell of one barely-covered breast, sliding her fingers into her own mouth as she does. She has to keep the show going, and hesitates. She'll play the game, but she doesn't want to humiliate this woman more than she has to.

Oola's hand slides from Leia's neck to the edge of her own bodysuit, and she pulls it slowly to one side, enough that Leia follows her meaning. Watching her eyes, Leia pushes her hand inside the suit and down.

Someone in the crowd lets out a quickly-stoppered moan. Keeping her mouth against the warm skin she finds between Oola's breasts, Leia lets her fingers work their way to find her hot, tight, wet entrance. Leia isn't much for porn, but she's seen a few vids in her travels. Oola's people are too often the subject of the more depraved holos. Leia isn't surprised to feel the oddly sucking flesh envelop the two fingers, stroking at her with internal fronds. She is surprised to see the naked pleasure on the other woman's face, unable to hold back her groans as Leia's hand moves, pushing further inside, guided by the involuntary muscle spasms in the tendrils massaging her.

The musicians have long since faded into quiet. The onlookers watch, some leaning into the light for a better view. Jabba's eyes are huge, she can see just past the much more pleasant sight of the woman she's making love to.

Leia ignores the awkward angle, the pains growing in her neck and shoulder. She ignores the crowd, putting out of her thoughts the surety of how many plan to retire to their own rooms soon after this and rub themselves sticky as they think of the two women together. They are unimportant. Only the movement of her hand matters, pushing the third and fourth finger in as Oola's hips undulate and welcome her deeper. Leia's hand is gripped tightly, so much so she may not be able to withdraw. The needy urging of Oola's body squeezes her, each digit stroked by half a dozen firm fronds.

Jabba pushing them into this should be degrading. As Leia feels the tension mounting in the other woman's body, building towards a sweet release, it only feels like freedom.

Oola squeals and cries out full-throated, her body convulsing madly. Leia has a quick clarity that she's enjoying it but the extra thrashes are part of the show they're putting on. Clever. Leia's not sure she could remember to be so bold in the middle of her own orgasm. The inner tendrils relax at last, freeing Leia's hand. She slides out of Oola's body, leaving a damp path against her skin.

As the crowd watches, Leia slips her wet fingers into her own mouth, tasting the tangy results of her pleasant work and letting their eyes linger as she sucks each finger clean.

The silver thread in the back of Leia's mind has become a torrent, a note becoming a blast. The last word warns her to duck. One of the walls explodes. Here in the center of the room, they're clear of the debris. The onlookers are not, and chaos erupts. The second charge Luke set goes off, and before Boba Fett can get a bead on the dark shape moving through the dusty, rubble-crowded shadows, Lando smacks his helmet with the butt of his own weapon.

There's a sharp tug on her collar, but it's not on purpose. Jabba is flailing, angry and frightened.

Leia looks at Oola, who gives her one sharp nod. Two are twice as strong as one. Together, they hurry back towards the vile slug, the length of their shared chain in their hands.


End file.
